


"Yeah... you did."

by Ephemeral_Joy



Series: "When I kissed you" // Stydia [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 3x11, Canon Compliant, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Lydia-centric, Stydia, aka im being emo, mention of other characters, start of time, that's when it happened, when i kissed him thats when it all changed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 09:10:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11848461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ephemeral_Joy/pseuds/Ephemeral_Joy
Summary: Five minutes ago, she didn’t think she would be kissing Stiles Stilinski on the lips for a good ten seconds. Ten seconds ago, she didn’t think he would make her feel things she didn’t know she could feel.Lydia didn't think she would be kissing Stiles Stilinski on the dirty locker room floor in between classes.But she did.





	"Yeah... you did."

Frustrated, Lydia trailed after Stiles, walking down the staircase. She huffed, feeling her braid slap against her back. She was in dire need of cutting it, as she had noticed the ends splitting. Once they were safe – _if_ they were safe – she would go to the hairdressers. Maybe. If they had time. She didn’t know. Like she did for the past ten minutes, the girl glanced down at her phone, angry that there is no reply of Aiden. She hoped he wasn’t off doing something stupid. There wasn’t time for that.  
  
‘Aiden isn’t texting me back,’ she huffed, dropping her phone in her pink purse.  
Stiles stopped, staring at her. She paused, turning her head around to wait for him. He visibly gulped, and looked behind his back, observing the stream of people, the exit of the school. He wanted to get out, she knew. She wanted too as well.  
‘Okay,’ Lydia complied to his thoughts, ‘maybe we can just – we can go over there and-‘, she was cut off by Stiles’ phone as it buzzed. Her heart dropped to her stomach, hammering in a rapid pace. She felt idiotic, it could easily be a text from his phone service saying he went over his data, but everything felt amplified today. The sounds, the movements – Lydia’s day was intense in every aspect. Every detail felt important.     
But when Stiles stared at the screen, she knew it wasn’t a text about data. His lips parted.  
‘What?’, she asked, cursing herself for hearing her voice tremble slightly, ‘Oh God,’ she stepped closer to him, excluding the nosy students from their conversation, ‘what is it now?’  
He shook his head, shaking his head in disbelief. His lips turned into a thin line.  
‘Ah,’ he whispered, ‘s’from Isaac,’ he paused, only adding to the tension that was building up inside Lydia’s chest, ‘Jennifer, she took – she has Allison’s father – she took him.’ Stiles didn’t look up at her, merely stared at the ground hard. Lydia felt everything inside her plummet. Her eyes went wide. No, this couldn’t be happening. Her heart clenched, warm blood that ran through her veins turned cold. She never felt as close to death as she was now, feeling it’s shadows loom over her.  
Something seemed to clear up in Stiles’ mind. ‘She’s got all three now,’ he concluded. She saw his hands tremble, and resisted the urge to grab them. Her brain worked in rapid speed, seeking solutions for their current problem. She was a genius, she could do it.  
Stiles exhaled in a buffering manner. Lydia frowned.  
‘There’s still time,’ she tried to reassure him (and herself), ‘There’s still time, right?’  
His breathing kept being irregular, and panic was evident in his eyes. His mouth parted, raising his hand to say something, but the only thing he got out was a labored: ‘Oh.’  
This wasn’t his normal behavior to stressful situations. She wasn’t used to this.  
‘Stiles? You okay?’, she asked, worried. But he didn’t seem to hear her, turning and twisting around the room, eyes flitting back and forth without control.  
‘What is it? What’s wrong?’  
He wasn’t with her, she noticed, detached from her and school. She knew these symptoms.  
‘Stiles?’, she tried again, hoping he would anchor herself to her voice.  
His eyes found hers, and it seemed to ground him for just a second.  
‘I think I’m having a panic attack.’  
  
Her mouth parted in fear, not knowing immediately what to do. She wanted to hit herself. She could tell you the all the elements of Mendeleev’s table in order. She could tell you what Marie-Antoinette’s shoe size was.  She could make a damn Molotov cocktail. She was smart, but she had no idea what to do when someone had a panic attack. Her mind was blank. The only thing she knew was to get him out of here, away from prying eyes, from snickering students. Her eyes flitted to the boy’s locker room a few doors down the hallway. Lydia gripped his arm tightly and ushered him to it. She didn’t care that people stared at them, some of them sending her suggestive looks. She did not care. Right now, the panicked boy was the only thing on her mind. Nothing else.

She opened the door, happy that it wasn’t locked and silently thanking coach Finstock for being forgetful. Stiles’ breaths were now squeaky, and in the midst of it all, let his backpack fall next to the door that was falling shut. It was dark, only one window letting the light in.  
‘Come on,’ she commanded, dragging him to a bench.  
Stiles seemed to have other ideas and fell against a locker, the clash loud and echoing. She cringed at the sound, hoping no one would hear anything from the outside. The last thing she wanted was having rumors spread about them.  
She fell opposite to him, racing into her role as impromptu caretaker. You know nothing!, her mind screamed contemptuous. She shook her head.  
‘Try to think of something else! Anything else!’  
Stiles exhaled and inhaled every millisecond, increasing the tension that filled the room, commanded attention and dominance. You could hardly hear the difference between the puffs. It sounded like choking. He _was_ choking, she realized. Suffocating on the weight of the situation, on every little fucked up thing that is edging around them, leaving no space to move. Stiles needed to move, couldn’t sit still. That was just who he was, but this… this wasn’t for him. This mess. Her thoughts made her agitated. Lydia forced herself to look back at the boy in matter.  
‘Like what?’, he breathed out, his voice scratchy. Her heart broke for the boy.    
‘Happy things!’, she blurted out, ‘Good things! Friends! Family!’, Lydia never said anything impulsively. But when Stiles looked at her with a painful expression, she realized what she did. Lydia closed her eyes shut in regret. God, you’re being stupid right now, she scolded herself.  
‘Ah, I mean – not family, oh God.’  
They both stared at the ground, Stiles helplessly trying to regulate his breathing, Lydia racking her brain for answers. Come. On!  
‘Okay, ah,’ her mind finally went to the medical part of her brain, searching for logical solutions.  
‘Just try and slow your breathing.’ She demonstrated the motion, exhaling slowly. Yes, she was in control again. Solutions, answers, analyze the situation, see what you can do – this is what she was good at. It all crumbled down fast.    
‘I ca – I can’t. I can’t.’ The sight in front of her was poignant. How is eyes were closing and snapping open, his hands clenching the ground, head hanging low. This wasn’t how she had pictured Stiles, ever. He should be laughing, smiling, helping Scott like a brother and a warrior. Stiles shouldn’t be like this – weak, helpless. She exhaled shortly, him being as vulnerable as he is now only made her more determined. She was going to stop this, one way or another. Because she needed him. _His help_ , she quickly corrected herself, she needed his help to save the others.  
Lydia edged herself closer to him, cupping his cheeks so he looked up at her. He needed something to distract himself with. Hopefully, she could be that something. That someone.  
‘Shhh… Stiles, look at me,’ she caressed his cheeks swiftly, staring right into his frightened eyes, his quivering lips, his anxious breathing.  
‘Shhh…’, her voice softened, ‘look at me.’  
Without her realizing it, their faces have gotten closer. These past weeks, it happened more often then she wanted to admit. Allison was her best friend, but Stiles seemed to be a close second. He understood her. Helped her. Because of that, they always seemed to be with each other.  
She also now noticed how beautiful his eyes were. Even with the fear in his eyes, they were a gorgeous golden brown, adorned with black, thick lashes.  
Her eyes flitted to his forehead, wanting to smooth out the crease that permanently lived there. She wanted more than anything to take away his pain. But she wasn’t a werewolf, she didn’t have those powers. But she was human. Somewhat. And she knew another way to let someone forget. Even for just a second.  
So, she did the only sensible thing she could think of.  
  
She kissed him.

It was a lot.  
She thought it would be nothing special. She has kissed many guys in her sixteen years of living. You had all her elementary school “boyfriends”, three in middle school, Jackson, miscellaneous sex partners and Aiden. She’s familiar with the lips of guys. It would be nothing. More so a duty. She would help him calm down, and then they would help the pack. Easy.  
But it wasn’t like that.

He took in a large breath when her lips neared his, until she smashed them on them, keeping him from inhaling more air. She had her eyes shut, scared to see his expression.  
She didn’t feel anything then, only skin and flesh merely pressed against her, like when you kiss someone at a Spin The Bottle game in middle school with rosy cheeks.  
That was, until he kissed back.  
All tension left her body, and warmth entered, rippling through her system leaving her tingly and nervous and excited and oh God her heart was beating rapidly. Her hands held his cheeks tighter, leaning in more.  
His lips were something she didn’t expect. They were chapped, she knew, but then were also full and perfectly shaped. They knew how to kiss. Stiles knew how to kiss. He made her feel things she has never felt before, and it frightened her.  
She was very aware of him. How his nose was pressed against hers, and how the tips of his fingers brushed her knees. She felt his tongue slightly caress her lips. Lydia didn’t know if it was intentional or not.

When Lydia realized he wasn’t in a hazardous situation anymore, she dragged her lips against his for a final time, (No, it wasn’t longing and desire she felt. She didn’t. Trust me.) before slowly retracting. Her lips were still parted, eyes shut, the girl in shock of her own feelings and the turn of how this all went. Five minutes ago, she didn’t think she would be kissing Stiles Stilinski on the lips for a good ten seconds. Ten seconds ago, she didn’t think he would make her feel things she didn’t know she could feel.  
She opened her eyes, already staring into his alluring golden irises, who stared back at her in surprise and wonder. He was breathing at a normal pace.  
Stiles, who more often than not closed himself off, displayed all his emotions right in front of. His eyes wide and earnest and emotional. He seemed speechless. She didn’t know what to say as well, still processing what she felt. _What did she feel, anyway?_  
He was starting to say something, and she was terrified. Their friendship just took a turn right then and there, and she didn’t know if she would like it or not.

‘How’d you do that?’, he whispered, eyes still locked with hers.  
She didn’t know. She just did something. It could’ve gone worse, really, with her not allowing with to breathe. But it worked, and that’s what counts.  
She licked her lips, ‘I uh…’, Lydia was surprised to hear her voice so hoarse. She didn’t realize how much the kiss affected her until she heard herself speak.  
‘I read once that… holding your breathe can stop a panic attack,’ she nodded, trying to believe herself. Yes, she did read it somewhere. She reads, it’s true. Subconsciously, she knew what to do. That was it. She did not want to kiss Stiles. She just read it somewhere.  
‘So…,’ her tongue went over her upper lip, savoring Stiles’ lips on hers and eyes glancing down to his that were just an inch away from her, ‘when I kissed you, you held your breathe.’  
He stared at her in awe, and she hated him for it. Stop, she wanted to say to him, stop looking at me like that. Stop looking at me like I just gave you everything and beyond that, if that was possible. She glanced at his lips again, forcing herself to stay put. Forcing herself to ignore how she wanted to kiss him again and touch him again and be close to him again. Lock it up, Lydia.

‘I did?’ 

**Author's Note:**

> The fic before this one is Stiles' POV, so I figured I should also make Lydia's POV. Have you noticed how their titles follow each other up?
> 
> "I did?"  
> "Yeah... you did."
> 
> Anyway, thanks to @slowburnotptrash on Tumblr for putting up with me, you're the true MVP. Definitely check her out, she's an angel.


End file.
